Dichotomy
by Jayfiend
Summary: Erik never thought that he'd find someone that he could trust. X-Men First Class. Charles/Erik.
1. Chapter 1

**Dichotomy**  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M (for later stuff)  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own the characters and I do not intend to make a profit off this story. The characters described within belong to their respective creators.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Erik never thought that he'd find someone that he could trust. _X-Men First Class_ Charles/Erik  
><strong><br>-1-**

My entire adult life has been consumed by a single-minded desire for revenge. I have traveled the world, met hundreds of different people, taught myself just enough phrases from different languages to get the information that I need, and left a long trail of bodies. I have no 'off' time or time to myself. I eat because I am hungry, I sleep because I am tired, and everything in between is just stepping stones to finding the man who murdered my mother. There is no relaxation, no relief. If I slack off for even a moment, I could miss the chance to catch the man who ruined my life and the lives of hundreds of thousands of others.

My powers only work if I tap into that underlying anger and let it guide me. When I want I can move mountains of metal, but only if I am in the right frame of mind. Most days I can only move small things: guns, jewelry, coins. I kept the coin that began all this as a remembrance of what I was striving for, what I had lost. Every once in a while I feel a twinge of pain that it has become so easy to move now, instead of when I really needed it to save my mother's life.

I haven't had friends since my family was taken away from me. I never needed them. Why bother being nice and friendly when force and hostility worked better and faster? There was never any need to have friends and allies. Until I met him.

* * *

><p>The breath was quickly leaving my lungs and it was only through sheer force of will that I was still down beneath the water trying with all my might to make the submarine stop. I hadn't planned this out well. I thought Shaw would be alone. Surely no one would want to ally with him. His evil must have marked itself somehow on his flesh as it had on mine.<p>

Yet he looked exactly as he had eighteen years ago. Better even. I lost control of myself even after realizing I was outnumbered and outgunned. What right did he have to look so healthy when my mother was rotting underground? This was my only chance. I had to make it count. I threw the knife at him, and I tried to crush him with the boat's anchor, all for what? That extra effort had just left me drowning in the water.

Water closed all around me and I was submerged. It was dark and cold despite my wetsuit. Points of light flashed around my eyes and I knew if I didn't let go soon I would drown. And yet I couldn't make myself release my hold on the submarine, I had to kill him, I had to make him pay. The submarine continued its slow descent, pulling me down with it into the murky depths.

A weight surrounded my neck, but I barely noticed it. A voice in my head, "Erik, I know what this means to you but you have to stop." That was harder to ignore. My resolve flickered and the submarine surged ahead. "You have to let go." The voice commanded again. Everything was growing dim. I reached out one last desperate time and nothing happened. The link snapped and I let myself float to the surface. The submarine disappeared into the depths.

The world became full of lights and sounds and air. Someone was holding on to me and saying something about how I was crazy to do this though he understood. But this was all a blur. All I cared about right then was making sure my lungs were full of air. He yelled at me to calm my mind. My thoughts slowed down and it was easier to breathe. What he had done scared me, I hadn't thought that there had been others like me, others who had powers that made them different. He smiled indulgently as I told him. The thought that I would never be alone again was both terrifying and exhilarating.

* * *

><p>He properly introduced himself later after we had been pulled onto the ship and taken down to the medical bay. "Charles Xavier." He held out his hand for me to shake and I did. His handshake was firm and warm, while I'm sure mine was cold and limp. That was embarrassing, I couldn't show weakness or they would exploit it. But he seemed so harmless just on the outside. He had a disarming smile and an easy carefree way about him that I almost couldn't help trusting him.<p>

"Erik Lensherr." I managed a weak smile before more water decided that it didn't belong in my lungs. My lungs gasped for air for a brief moment before they resumed their proper function. The ship's doctor listened to my chest and said that I most likely hadn't done any damage. He gave me a grey wool blanket. It was small comfort against the rapidly increasing chill from my wetsuit.

The ship's doctor offered me a shot of whiskey and I drank it. It burned all the way down. I became aware of an almost all-consuming fatigue. My life had consisted of searching and running for so long it had to catch up with me sometime. I slumped down on the cot while Charles said something about the CIA putting together a mutant team. Finally he realized that I wasn't listening and instead talked to the CIA operative, Moira, for a while. I let myself drift.

We reached shore and Charles introduced me to his sister, Raven, after she had berated him for leaving her alone. She was young, shy and unsure of herself. For a brief moment I thought she might have something more to her than it appeared. Yet no one said anything and while I thought I caught a glimpse of her eyes changing colors it didn't seem like she was going to say anything either.

* * *

><p>They allowed me to stop at my hotel and pick up my things. I didn't have many, just a small briefcase and a few changes of clothes. That joined the maps, pictures, and other assorted items I had amassed over the years tracking Shaw down. Somehow I had agreed to travel with them to Washington, D.C. and visit a CIA covert facility specifically designed with our needs in mind. It sounded like a prison, but I had no choice. They had seen what I could do and I knew that there was no chance of leaving without them wanting to know where I was going. And with the trail of bodies that I was sure to leave behind I knew that wasn't an option. Charles seemed to trust them, perhaps I could take a chance and trust him.<p>

The director of the facility took us on a tour and introduced us to all of his motley crew. Charles uncovered that he had at least one mutant already working for him, Hank McCoy, an earnest looking man who delighted in being able to show off for us. It was mildly interesting, but this was just a detour on my quest for revenge.

The facility at least seemed secure and state of the art. Certainly a safe place to rest for a moment before resuming my search. Shaw was out there somewhere and I had to make him pay. I went to my room and slept for a while before deciding to see just how secure this place actually was. No one molested me on my way to the director's office. He had gone home long before. The lock was relatively simple to pick, it only took a little bit of my power and concentration before the tumblers aligned and I gained access. His office was neat and tidy, almost as if he was never there.

I opened his filing cabinets and was delighted to find that he kept things in some semblance of order and the file for Sebastian Shaw was exactly where it should have been. It wasn't as thick as my file on Shaw, the government apparently hadn't put together the connections between him and the other identities that he had assumed throughout the years. Still there were additional aliases and leads that I could follow. They didn't need the information as much as I did. The folder went into my briefcase. I toyed with the idea of leaving a note, surely Charles deserved at least that. He had saved my life. I decided against it. Writing a note would take time that I didn't have.

* * *

><p>I was halfway between the building and the parking lot when he stopped me. Had it been anyone else I would have kept walking. He had a hold over me and I at least owed him the courtesy of hearing what he had to say. His points turned out to be valid. I couldn't do this alone, and I did need someone to help me. It was the one strategy that I hadn't tried yet. The only troubling thought was that he had read my mind, and he knew what had happened to me. My pain was my own burden. It was not one that I wanted to share and especially not with someone who could use it against me. I had to think about it.<p>

I wound up walking down the road about a mile or so trying to mull over the pros and cons of taking on Shaw myself. At least now I knew what kind of followers he had. The telepath was troubling; she had managed to make me crumble. Moira had said that Shaw had other compatriots and I didn't know their powers as of yet, they could be just as powerful. And Shaw himself had to have powers of his own. If I was working with others, they could distract him and make it easier for me to exact my revenge. Still I couldn't let Charles know that he had won.

I hitchhiked to a hotel further down the road and then made my way back to the CIA base in the morning. Charles acted surprised to see me, but surely he had sensed my thoughts as I walked down the hallway. They were talking about assembling a team and some device they'd made to facilitate it. I didn't care as long as the government didn't decide to round up all the mutants that Charles had found. I wanted us to do it ourselves. He agreed and it was my turn to be surprised. Perhaps it hadn't been a bad idea to come back.

* * *

><p>It was easy to travel in his shadow as he plucked the locations of mutants out of thin air. I was there as the muscle almost, the one who had a power that you could see. He had an easy way about him that attracted like-minded individuals. I don't think that all of it was due to his powers. I, on the other hand, scared people. It was not entirely unintentional. If people got close and knew me they tended to use what they learned against me. For a moment I was able to forget what I had to do and just enjoy myself. My life had been about capturing Shaw for so long that I had almost lost completely any idea of what a normal life was.<p>

I was astounded at how freely Charles threw his money around. He booked suites at the choicest hotels and tried to purchase the most expensive and luxurious things on the menu. I almost thought that he was trying to impress me. When we had been back at the CIA base, he had been more normal, more down to earth. Here he was almost giddy at trying to show me the wonders of life outside searching for Shaw. I let myself be carried along in his wake. There had been no sign of Shaw for days, surely he would still be wherever he was after we had the team assembled.

Charles and I ate dinner together, went to bars together, in fact the only time we were apart was when we slept. And sometimes even that was shortened as we talked late into the night. Somehow that wasn't stifling. He proved to be a great conversationalist and seemed to actually care what I thought. And I found that I cared about his opinions, his ideas of what the world should be like for mutants and humans alike.

The hotel for the night was in a more dingy part of town, the only place that had rooms available that late. For once Charles and I had to room together. There was apparently an insurance convention in town and they had booked all of the rooms in the hotels closer to our next destination. I hadn't had to share with anyone since I had been much younger and I wasn't quite sure how I was supposed to act.

He had spread his things out throughout the room while I tried to keep mine confined to one area. The first thing he had done after unpacking was open up the liquor that he had purchased at the nearby liquor store. By the time that we had both unpacked most of it was gone. I couldn't claim that it was all due to him. I had matched him drink for drink. That had probably made me a lot more thoughtful than I normally would have been.

Chess was an almost constant diversion between us. Neither of us was very good. I don't even think that either of us really liked playing it, but it was something to distract our hands when we talked. So generally after pouring drinks and getting settled wherever we were one or the other of us would pull out the chess board and set it up.

After we had made a couple of moves, the mood seemed good enough to start a conversation. "Charles, do you think we're doing the right thing? I'm not sure that rounding up all of these mutants without telling them why we're doing it is a good idea." The thought had come to me after we had promised Alex that he wouldn't have to linger in jail anymore. Maybe what he had to look forward to now was going to be even worse.

He took a sip of his drink and pondered his next move. "Were they really any better off the way they were before we found them?" His pawn took one of mine in a fluid motion. "At least now they know they aren't the only ones. Didn't you find some comfort in that?" His eyebrow raised and he met my eyes.

Anger threatened to boil over but I suppressed it. I had believed that I was better off on my own for so many years that any threat to that fiction was almost an attack. "Yes, but we're not talking about me are we?" I slammed my piece down hard on the chess board and he jumped but quickly recovered. "It's fine that we know about them. We're fellow mutants. But I think that any kind of list, anything that says who they are . . . that's just one step along the way to rounding us all up and getting rid of us." I was thinking of the list of coordinates we had left behind in Cerebro. I was sure that once we had left with our copy the CIA had made a copy of their own to keep and investigate later.

He sat there staring at me, his mouth open in shock. I felt the rage building inside of me and I tried to head it off by walking over to the window. Charles wasn't the person I should have been angry at.

Outside everything was dark and quiet. The light from the flickering neon of the hotel's gaudy neon sign splashed across the parking lot. There was only a quarter moon and it cast a dim glow. A few cars sat abandoned and rusting at the back of the parking lot. The man working at the front desk had seemed surprised when we stopped in, though that soon disappeared when Charles opened his wallet and flashed his cash around.

I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against the glass. It was cool and that went a long way toward making me reconsider my actions. When I turned around Charles was still pondering his next move. He twirled his queen around in his hand. I tried to meet his eyes but he had evidently decided to ignore me.

I sipped a little from my glass and slid back down into the chair opposite him. He was still more interested in the chess board. The tension was still there. And it was all because of me. Perhaps being alone hadn't been the best thing for me if it made me unable to relate to people that I actually liked and respected. And Charles was the first person in a while that I felt I could trust.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you were like them." I finally said, keeping my eyes pointed firmly down at the chess board. Neither of us was truly winning, more just moving the pieces around.

He took my bishop with his queen. "I can understand why you're upset. Sometimes I feel the same way. But you have to realize that everyone isn't like the Nazis." He took a swig of his drink. "I've worked with the CIA for a while now and I haven't heard anything that makes me fear that they're heading down that road." I opened my mouth to protest. He raised his hand to head me off. "I'm completely aware that it is a possibility. Actually it's probably extremely likely it'll happen. But I want to give them a chance to lose my trust. I don't want to live in a world where I have to think that everyone's out to get me." He went to take another drink out of his glass but it was empty. It was his turn to get up and calm down. When he pushed his chair back one of the legs hit the table and made all the pieces jump.

My glass was empty as well but I sensed that I was hitting the tipping point between sobriety and drunkenness. He ignored my gesture that I was done and refilled my glass then his own. I got the sense he was trying to work himself up to saying something. "I'm sorry that the world hurt you when you were younger. But I think you need to learn how to trust people again. Or at least how to trust one person." He smiled at me wistfully.

I looked at the chess board's reflection through my glass. It took on an even greater amber cast. Charles sat down across from me again and sipped his drink thoughtfully.

"I think I do trust someone." My hand touched my rook, one move and I could put his king in check. I met his eyes. "I trust you." I paused, then said, "As long as you stay out of my head."

A swirl of emotions passed over his face; fear, shock, surprise, and then happiness. "I'm honored," he said.

I laughed. "You did save my life." I started to move the rook when he touched my hand. There was a sense that even though he no doubt pitied me and thought that I was an almost animalistic slave to my desires he wanted to know me better. He wouldn't hurt me. His face moved closer, our cheeks almost touched. I closed my eyes. There was an almost feather light touch on my lips. His lips were soft and tasted of alcohol. My lips parted and our tongues touched briefly. His hand slowly glided over my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. And then he moved away. I continued to hold my eyes closed, trying to keep the fleeting memory of his kiss alive.

It was the one of the first times that I'd had a kiss that I wanted to remember. Generally any kisses before had been rooted in a mindless desire for sex and release, they were painful harsh kisses that held no greater meaning or purpose.

The silence stretched out. I realized I was still holding on to the rook. It was heavy and warm in my hand. I placed it on the board, but not where I had meant to put it. Charles had assumed his previous position and was studying the board. A blush crept up his face. "Erik, I hope I didn't offend you."

I smiled and shook my head. "You'd have to do a lot worse than that to offend me." He smiled back.

I don't think we said anything else to each other the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**-2-**

He said he trusted me and yet when I subdued Emma Frost for him he thought that I was going to kill her. Couldn't he see that she wasn't going to give us any information unless we hurt her? She was too firmly in Shaw's grasp to give up anything easily. She met my gaze and we exchanged a look that said we both understood what the dynamic was. In fact, she probably would have done the same to me had the roles been reversed.

Charles didn't see it that way. After they had carted her away he wouldn't look at me and only spoke to Moira. I didn't understand what the problem was. Why did things always have to be done his way? Surely trust could go both ways. And yet he was insistent that his way was the correct one.

They sat in front of me on the flight back and had whispered conversations about what Emma had said. Moira kept on looking back at me so I knew that they were talking about me. I tried to pretend that it didn't bother me but there was little else to distract me. The view out the airplane's windows was only clouds and endless blue sky. I wasn't even close enough to it to look out if I had wanted to. For some reason I had been seated with two of the soldiers who had gone with us to the Soviet retreat. Had I not known better I would have thought that they were there to make sure I didn't do anything else to jeopardize the mission, such as it was. They were as bored as I was and the sound of the plane's engines made conversation almost impossible.

The coin found its way into my hand. I let it float through my fingers, swirling faster and faster. My eyes closed. This required almost as much concentration as moving a larger object. I still had problems with using my powers in other ways, but this coin had become the thing I was the most comfortable moving, much as it hurt that it was true.

I sat like that for a while letting the coin spin its was to oblivion. My mind went blank as I concentrated on breathing in and out, letting my lungs fill with air and then the sweet release of exhaling. I thought that it would help me become more grounded, less excitable.

Then I felt a soft touch on my arm, startling me. The coin wobbled in midair. I had to regain control quickly before it went flying off into the plane, possibly piercing the hull. It took a moment to pull the coin back into my hand. I slipped it back into my pocket. When I opened my eyes Charles was looking at me. "Are you okay?" he mouthed. I touched my cheek and was surprised to find a tear. I couldn't let him know that he'd affected me like this, if it even related to that at all.

I wiped it away and smiled at him. If he asked later I would say that the air had been dry, or I had allergies, anything to avoid admitting that something might have been wrong.

He knew it wasn't true as much as I did. But he said nothing and the moment passed. Moira turned in her sleep and her head rested on his shoulder. He turned around and faced the front of the plane.

I started to pull out the coin again but the scared looks of the soldiers near me made me stop. The one sitting next to me leaned as far as he could away from me and I'm sure if he had any kind of weapon he would have pointed it at me. They would never understand, I could tell. I didn't even need to read their minds.

* * *

><p>After the destruction of the CIA facility Charles revealed the he had his own estate and was independently wealthy. He offered the grounds as our new training facility. On the long car ride to Westchester I had plenty of time to consider how I could have acted differently. If I hadn't come back when Charles asked me to stay would Darwin still be alive? His life would have been boring, to be sure, but it wouldn't have been cut short. Charles and I were responsible. We had been giddy about gathering other mutants around us, unity was our strength. And it was also a weakness. This was why I never traveled with anyone else. There was always the fear that I would grow attached and something bad would happen. Now it was too late.<p>

Each of the recruits had a determined look on their faces. They wanted to avenge their fallen comrade. Charles wanted to send them all away, he feared the things that a desire for revenge might make them do. I wanted them to stay, I knew what revenge made people do. The only question was whether or not they would be able to actually do it.

The mansion was an impressive construct of stone interlaced with hundreds of windows. As the car pulled up the drive it seemed to grow larger and larger until it took over the sky. The gardens were massive, flowers of every hue grew up and down the well-maintained paths before they dissolved off into the forest. While Charles had shown that he was wealthy and accustomed to comfort, I had never thought that his childhood home would have been as large as this.

At the first opportunity he had Charles walked off with Moira, leaving Raven to guide us. She pointed out landmarks on the tour as she doled out the room assignments. She was especially proud of her room with its plaid wallpaper and huge fireplace. After a while all of the hallways and rooms seemed to blend together. Priceless works of art lined every free space that wasn't taken up with expensive furniture. I had never been confronted with such excess before. Finally Raven lead me to my room.

My room was simply white. There was no splash of color anywhere except for patches of lightly stained wood. The walls were decorated with landscapes and portraits of people and places long gone. It felt like I was completely removed from the outside world. That was oddly calming. They left me there to get settled as the tour continued on. I put my suitcase on the bed and started to unpack my meager possessions. As they filled up the space on the windowsill I started to feel odd, it was almost like I was putting down roots. For the first time in a long while I felt safe enough to put the coin down and leave it behind.

I took a shower and laid down on top of the bed. All of the pent up anger and frustration almost melted away, though some remained. My hands clenched and then released. I could feel all of the metal in the room now. Its presence kept me grounded. It let me know that I still had weapons, even if they took everything else away from me.

I was dying for a drink. Today had been hell with the long flight and drive, the disagreement with Charles, everything weighed on my chest. I didn't know why I cared what he thought. My life since Shaw had been mostly concerned with revenge, not feelings. It had been concerned with killing him and getting rid of the weight of the memories that seemed were constantly bearing down on me. Now it seemed I was adding new memories and regrets to join the rest.

I must have drifted off because when I woke next the sky was slowly turning dark outside the window shades. There was a knock at the door and I pulled my robe tightly around myself before I answered it.

Charles stood there looking awkward. He met my eyes for a moment before they settled at a point just over my shoulder. "I just wanted to know if you'd like something to eat or drink. You slept through dinner, not that it was anything fancy."

I had visions of Raven and the others cooking something messy and having a food fight. But what could you expect when you gathered a bunch of teenagers together with others that had powers just like them? Somehow I couldn't see Charles joining in, though he often gave the air of someone who liked to play practical jokes and have fun on his own terms.

"Sure, just let me get dressed." I said. He nodded and walked off down the hallway.

After I shut the door the doubts started to overwhelm me again. This was the first time he'd spoken to me directly since we'd arrived. Was he going to lecture me about what had happened in Russia? I hoped that when the time came he would be willing to let me take the needed step with Shaw.

When I finally arrived in the kitchen after a few wrong turns in the confusing hallways he was busy popping the cork on a bottle of wine. A mountain of unwashed dishes sat in the sink. Charles frowned at it slightly before discarding the cork. "I'm afraid there isn't really anything much, just the things for making sandwiches. The others kind of ate most of what the housekeeper left stocked."

"That's fine, I'm not that hungry." He handed me a glass and I accepted it gratefully. Alcohol tended to make difficult conversations easier. I assembled a sandwich and sat down at the table. The kitchen was surprisingly homey despite being attached to an elegant manor house. The only new item in the whole room was the refrigerator. The stove and sink were relics of an earlier time that existed before the sleek and modern. Even though it didn't look the same, I was reminded of the kitchen in the apartment where I had grown up. If I closed my eyes I could almost take myself back there, smell bread baking, see the sunlight drifting in through the faded white lace curtains above the sink. I let myself drift for a moment before rejoining Charles.

"Are you alright? You seem . . . distant."

"I'm fine. I just was remembering something."

He shook his head and smiled wistfully. "I met Raven in here. She was stealing food out of the refrigerator. I said I'd make it so she'd never have to steal again. I wanted to protect her."

I swirled the wine in the glass. "You're not related then?" That was surprising, they acted like they had been together almost since birth.

"No. I think of her as my sister though." He took a sip of his drink. "She's been acting oddly though. She keeps on asking me if I find her attractive, if I'd date her." Our eyes met and his were troubled. "I don't see her that way. I don't think I ever could. She's my oldest friend and doing anything like that with her . . . I think I'd lose her. And then there's her natural form."

I sighed. "You think she's hideous." The signs were there. He always seemed to pull away or flinch when she revealed herself. She noticed his reaction and would always switch back to her other form as quickly as she could.

The table became a lot more interesting for both of us. "Is that so wrong? Don't we all have certain kinds of people that we're attracted to? Is it so horrible that I can't find her blue skin attractive? I don't think there's many people who would."

I looked out the kitchen window. The sun was almost done setting, leaving the treetops ablaze with color as it disappeared. "I think she's beautiful." He almost looked enraged. "You're not wrong, blue skin isn't my ideal of beauty either. But when she's who she really is, when she has the confidence to be in her own skin, that's beautiful." I slowly picked my sandwich to pieces. "You don't have to be embarrassed about your powers, no one can see them. She does."

He almost looked like he was going to punch me. The moment dragged out between us. Then he slumped over and nodded. "I guess I never really thought of it that way. I just wanted the best for her."

I refrained from making any further comment. Who was I to say that he was wrong for protecting her from the cruelty of the outside world? Even if it had made it harder for her to eventually emerge from her protective skin when she was older; it had allowed her to have a somewhat happy childhood.

We had both finished eating but neither of us left the table. I almost thought I could feel him rooting around in my mind but he wasn't touching his fingers to his forehead. "We need to talk about what happened in Russia," he said.

I laughed. "You think I went too far." I refilled the glasses. I normally wasn't much for wine but I needed to do something with my hands. "What would you have done differently?"

"I wouldn't have almost decapitated her." He glared at me. "I would have let the CIA take her. That's what we would have done had it been Shaw, right?"

Actually I would have killed Shaw but he already knew that. "And what exactly do you think the CIA would have done? They wouldn't have been able to get the information because she would still have been in her diamond form."

"That may be true but I don't want to do things that way. I suppose that's just the idealist in me. Can you please not do anything like that again when we're working together?"

A flicker of anger passed through me but I suppressed it. Yet again things had to be done his way, with no discussion. "I can't promise that. If I see Shaw again I'm going to kill him." That was so obvious to me. I don't know why he couldn't see it. His eyes slowly closed and he shook his head.

"Yes, I know. I wish that wasn't the case, but I know." Suddenly it seemed extremely important that he understand why I had to kill Shaw. My mind started racing through all of the reasons that the world would be better off without him. I had to convince him.

But that was not to be. Moira came into the kitchen. "Charles? I was looking for you. I wanted to talk to you about some intelligence I just received." She acted as if I wasn't in the room.

Charles looked at her like she was a welcome rescue from the conversation. He leapt to his feet. "Ah! Well, let's go the study. I'll see you tomorrow Erik." He placed his hand on the small of her back and they headed off into the mansion. I could hear their laughter echoing down the hall.

I put the dishes in the sink. Somehow I didn't find out until the next day that I had bent a knife into a circle with my powers without realizing it.

* * *

><p>The next few days were a haze of training and pushing my powers to the limit of what I was capable of. There had never been any need to move anything larger than a knife or a gun before so I had never really tried. Small objects had gotten easier to manipulate and groups of them were only slightly harder to move. But moving a larger construct was almost impossible. I would feel it and sometimes it would seem like it was about to move, but I could never make the step between visualizing moving the object and actually moving it.<p>

Every night I went back to my room exhausted only to find myself unable to sleep. I would meet Charles in the library and we'd talk until early in the morning about nothing. We didn't talk about the night in the kitchen. For a time it seemed like it had been when we had been on the road trying to recruit mutants to our cause. Finally I would sleep a few hours before the cycle started again. I should have been tired beyond recovery but I had never felt more alive. It almost seemed like I was accomplishing something.

Charles was in his element. As I tried to work on refining my powers I could see how he was able to coax everyone to develop their powers to limits they had never thought possible. He dispensed advice that was always met with a smile as the recipient realized how helpful it was.

I tried to help as best I could, but my efforts were not as well received. It shouldn't have been that surprising I suppose. In retrospect pushing Banshee off the top of the satellite dish wasn't the greatest idea, but it had helped him make the breakthrough to using his powers to fly. Even though what I did usually worked the others moved away from me when I walked by. On some level it hurt because it would have been nice for my efforts to have been recognized, but instead I decided to delight in the fact that I intimidated people. It would have hurt too much otherwise.

Moira helped with the training to some degree. Sometimes she would help Charles set up training equipment but her role tended to be as an observer. I would see her following along behind Charles as he arranged practice sessions for each of the recruits. It seemed like she was paying careful attention, possibly to report back to the CIA. Later in the day she would pull Charles aside to have hushed conversations in his study. These could take a few minutes or a few hours behind closed doors. Whatever they talked about tended to involve a lot of laughing. I couldn't really be jealous as he spent more time with me at night.

Still it hurt to walk past the study and hear her tittering. Mealtimes were excruciating as well. They sat opposite each other at either end of the table. I sat somewhere in between Hank and Raven, who tended to spend their meal talking to each other around me. That combined with Sean's insistence on seeing how much he could annoy Alex before Alex would retaliate made it easy to eat my meals quickly and then excuse myself.

One night Charles and I stayed up later than we usually tended to. It had been a day full of accomplishments and I think Charles wanted to celebrate. He had become more emotionally invested in the recruits than I thought was perhaps wise. They could all die like Darwin had and then he'd be left with nothing but guilt. I didn't tell him that. Of course I wasn't innocent either. I had become extremely attached to him and that was kind of frightening.

Since the incident with my mother I had never felt this way about anyone before, man or woman. There had never been any need to care about what someone thought of me. Or if I did care they certainly didn't return the feeling. He was so unlike anyone I'd ever met. And his personality, his whole demeanor, was enticing. I normally tried to keep a barrier between myself and the outside world to keep people from getting close and distracting me from my revenge. He had broken it.

He was busy pouring champagne. "What are we celebrating?" I asked.

"Well, there's a few things to choose from. Alex was able to destroy the right training dummy, Hank finally took his shoes off to run, and Sean flew a little longer today." There was a huge smile on his face. It was infectious.

"That's impressive. Maybe they'll even be ready for Shaw when the time comes." That brought down the mood somewhat and I regretted it. "I didn't mean that," I rubbed at my eyes, "I'm just tired."

He nodded as if he understood. "I am too, but I feel like I need to be as encouraging as I can so they don't think about how serious the mission may be."

"I suppose that's one tack to take. You do seem to have a talent for making people want to push themselves." I took a sip of the champagne. "So when do you relax then? It must be stressful keeping it all inside."

He sighed and shrugged. For a brief moment he looked completely exhausted and drained but it passed quickly. "Frankly the one time I can be myself is when I'm with you. I look forward to these evenings together."

I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. I felt the same, but actually saying it to him seemed too much. Ordinarily by now we would have started playing chess. The board was set up and the pieces were in their appropriate places but neither of us moved towards them. Somehow tonight was different. I sat down on the sofa and he sat next to me. The awkward pause seemed to stretch out.

I decided to take a chance, hoping that he wouldn't use it against me. "Charles, I feel the same way," I said, staring firmly ahead. The glass in my hand seemed like it was about to shatter I was holding it so tightly. I put it down on the table. He seemed impossibly close. I closed my eyes. I could feel his body moving nearer. And then he kissed me.

I lost myself in his kiss. He had me pinned to the sofa, his hands holding me down so that I couldn't touch him unless he wanted me to. His lips were soft and parted soon after I touched them with my tongue. As we kissed it seemed like the room got impossibly hotter. Any resistance I wanted to put up faded away in the haze of tongue on tongue, flesh on flesh.

He nuzzled at the collar of my turtleneck. I gasped as his tongue lapped at my pulse. It made me twist in his hold and our chests touched. He laid down completely on top of me. That was an almost divine feeling. I moaned into his mouth.

"Erik, I wish we'd done this sooner," he whispered, then descended onto my neck. My hands clenched and tried to break free. I wanted to touch him so badly.

"I thought you and Moira..," I began but he soon covered my lips with his.

"You thought Moira and I were together? Hardly. She doesn't laugh at my jokes." He looked put out at the concept.

"Well they're awful," I said, laughing in spite of myself. He pouted. Finally I managed to push myself up a little so I could kiss his cheek.

"Besides she doesn't really think of me that way. She just wants me for my powers." He ground his hips down onto mine. My cock, which until now had only been mildly aroused, sprung to attention. I could feel his do the same. Ungodly sounds were coming from my throat, moans that I thought must have been loud enough for others in the mansion to hear. And still he held me down.

I could have used any number of metal objects in the room to make him let go, but this felt so good. "I'm no better, I just want you for your body," I joked.

At that he stopped. Everything. He pushed himself up so I couldn't reach him and held me down. "That's what this has been? I thought we were friends!"

I tried to reach him but I couldn't. "Charles, I was joking!" I protested. He smiled and tapped his temple. Surely he couldn't torture me like this.

"I know," he whispered and descended again. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out, his touch was exactly what I needed. I wanted to touch him back but he still held my arms down. He had my legs pinned as well. I didn't want to beg to touch him, that seemed almost demeaning. And yet he wouldn't let me up. I was slowly being driven insane by his frantic kisses along my neck.

"Please, I want to touch you," I finally whispered as he pulled away again. He slowly let go of my hands. I grabbed onto his back and pulled him down so I could kiss him on my own terms. It was his turn to moan and squirm as I kissed along his jaw line. I moved one of my hands to the gap between his pants and his shirt. It took a moment to pull his shirt out from where he'd tucked it into his pants, but once it was free I was able to touch his skin.

He gasped into my mouth. I traced the small of his back slowly with my fingertips. Goose bumps followed in their wake. He had worked one of his hands underneath my turtleneck and it had made its way up to one of my nipples. I couldn't help tightening my grip on his back. My fingernails must have dug in too much.

"Ow." He winced.

"Sorry." We resumed kissing, our hands roaming all over each others' bodies. It felt like I was losing all control over myself. Ordinarily I would have tried to keep myself from getting overwhelmed and tried to keep some control, but this was stimulation that overcame even that. This was a pleasant distraction from the larger issues at hand.

He pushed my legs apart and settled in between them. Our groins rubbed against each other. The pleasure that already seemed too high to bear threatened to spill over. It seemed hard to breathe. Our kisses devolved into panting into each other's mouths. One of his hands stayed caressing a nipple while the other slowly skimmed down my chest until it met my waistband. It seemed like it took ages for him to unbuckle my belt and slip his hand down inside my boxers. I had to bite my hand to quiet my moans as he slowly encircled my cock with his hand.

The metal in the room started to jangle and shift. I hoped that it was confined to this room. Otherwise there would be no way to keep this from the others. It had never really happened like that before, I could usually keep control of my powers while having sex. This was different.

He had stopped moving for a moment. "Fascinating. I didn't think you could do that. Are you doing it on purpose?" he said, sitting upright.

"No. It just happened." I tried to pull him back down but settling for undoing his belt.

"Are you always able to move all of the metal in a room?" He started to get up but I held him down. I moved my hand down to his boxers and slipped inside. His cock was so hot and hard. It jumped when I touched it.

"We can talk about this later," I hissed. I pulled him down into a savage kiss.

We both groaned as we stroked each others' cocks. Our foreheads touched and then we kissed. I suddenly saw images, disembodied visions of myself from Charles' perspective, a touch on my cock that suddenly multiplied. The metal started to shake. I couldn't breathe. We exhaled and inhaled as one. The pressure and pleasure kept building to impossible heights.

And then it was too much. I buried my head in his shoulder as I came. He came soon after. We kissed each other for a minute or so longer and then pulled apart.

"That was amazing," I panted. "I could see myself through your eyes, like I was you." He pulled away and tried to clean himself up as best he could. "Did you do that on purpose?"

He fastened his pants then bent over to pick up something that had fallen from his desk. "Not really. But I've never been with a mutant before. Maybe it's different."

The room was growing cold. I cleaned myself up as best I could in a vain attempt to look somewhat regular again. This was where things tended to get awkward. "Well, good night then."

Charles looked pained for a moment, like he wanted to talk about it, but that soon passed. "Good night."

I snuck through the hallways and corridors as stealthily as I could to avoid meeting anyone.


	3. Chapter 3

**-3-**

We resumed training the next day. I didn't say anything about what had happened. I didn't know if I even wanted to talk about what had happened. It was relatively easy to distract myself by helping Raven and Alex train. I think Charles must have been embarrassed as well because he did the same. As the day passed, however, I found that I did want to see him.

After lunch I found him walking the grounds deep in thought. He tended to gravitate towards the quieter areas of the estate when he wasn't working with everyone. I don't know if it was an attempt to escape the sound of all of our thoughts or if it was something else. The handgun felt heavy in my hand. A half realized plan was slowly forming in my head. He was surprised to see me. "Erik? Is everything okay?" he asked. I must have looked more frantic than I felt because his brows were knitted in concern.

"Yeah, everything's great. I just wanted to ask if you could help me train."

"Is that what the gun is for?" He gestured at it, smiling nervously.

"I was wondering if you'd shoot me." I pointed to my forehead. "Here." It sounded so stupid and pathetic. Surely he'd see through it. He nodded slowly.

"And you're sure you can stop it?" In truth I wasn't sure, but it had been the first thing I'd thought of. Some part of me wanted him to do it and knew that I couldn't react fast enough. He must have been able to see that too, but he pretended not to.

I handed the gun over to him and he held it in his hand trying to gauge its weight and size. I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself. As I concentrated I could see all of the gun's parts and how they fit together. The bullet, that was the most important part so I found that first, then expanded my powers to encompass each and every component. They all fit together so precisely. I knew I could do it.

His hand was wavering. I took hold of the gun and placed it against my forehead. It was cold against my skin. I stared right into his eyes and smiled. He closed his eyes and his finger moved on the trigger. I tensed. His grip was quivering. I had to try to keep concentrating on exactly where everything was or all would be lost.

The moment stretched out longer and longer. And then he lowered the weapon and handed it to me. "I can't do it. I can't shoot my friend point blank."

I had been bracing myself to destroy the gun, to tear it to pieces, and now he had moved it. It felt like he had torn it away from my flesh. I almost dropped it when he tried to put it into my hands. "I could have done it. I've done it before," I protested. It didn't matter that I really hadn't. He had to believe I had.

"It's not pushing yourself if you've done it before." He looked around for a moment. "Have you tried anything larger? What if Shaw uses the sub again?" I was still trying to calm down from trying to take the gun apart. I didn't have the strength to argue again.

"I can't move large things. I need the situation, the anger." And that was true too. That was how we had met. "I can't do it on command."

"We're here to develop our powers. You'll never know what you're capable of unless you try." He pointed at the satellite dish that loomed in the distance. The huge structure appeared to have grown out of the forest, a manmade behemoth. It was facing off to the side. "Why don't you turn that to face us?"

Rather than waste my energy protesting I reached out. I could feel the metal rising up from the earth, the pipes and wires coiling underneath it like roots. My powers slowly spread out over its surface. I could feel every inch of the satellite dish, every panel, every screw, every bolt. And then I tried to move it. Nothing happened, though I knew I was pulling as hard as I could. A few seconds passed and it seemed like it was starting to give. I outstretched my arms and my hands trembled with the effort. It almost felt like it was finally going to move and then my body gave out. I had to brace myself against the railing so that I wouldn't fall down.

Charles didn't look surprised that I had failed. He came a bit closer and leaned on the railing next to me. I didn't want to see his disappointment. And yet when I dared to look at him he was looking off at the satellite dish wistfully.

I wanted to make excuses, but I knew he wouldn't accept them. "I don't know how to make the transition from small things to big ones. I can only do it if the emotion is there," I admitted.

He nodded. "Maybe the problem is the kind of emotion you're using." He tapped his fingers against his forehead. "May I?"

In truth I thought he was always in my head. It was surprising that he wasn't. I nodded my assent.

My mind became more focused. And then the faintest flickers of memory started to enter my consciousness. I raised my hand and felt the satellite dish.

The images and memories washed over me and I felt a greater connection to the power I held deep inside. To see my parents again, to be at home and safe, all of that was something I never thought I'd see again. I had buried it so deep down inside of me in an attempt to protect it. Instead I had forgotten it. A tear ran down my cheek. It had been so long since I'd allowed myself to remember anything before Shaw. It was like discovering something I had thought long gone. That was when I realized that I was a student too. For all our working together and speeches about needing to train, he was still able to use his power better than I could mine. I needed his help to reach my full potential, he didn't need mine.

There was a huge groaning sound as the satellite dish slowly shifted on its pedestal. I could feel the weight of it turn in my hands. Sweat dripped down my face. Even though it was moving it still required an almost superhuman effort to keep it moving at the same speed.

When it finally faced us and I could let go I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. I slumped over the railing. Charles seemed exhausted by the effort. We both started laughing. I think he was heady with the realization that he had helped me reach a breakthrough of sorts. A breakthrough not rooted in pain or anger. We were still in the moment when Moira poked her head out the window and said that the president was going to make an announcement. Any shared experience that we had soon disappeared and the feeling was gone. That wasn't Moira's fault.

Everyone was huddled around the television set in the living room. I only half-listened as President Kennedy outlined the situation in Cuba. From the moment he had mentioned nuclear missiles and the possibility of starting a nuclear war my mind had gone to Shaw. All of the elements were in place for him to start his war against humans. It was just a matter of finding out how to stop him.

The mood had changed. All of the joking and kidding around stopped as they all realized what they would be going up against and what the stakes were. I hoped that they would be able to put aside their fears and fight Shaw effectively, but there was little Charles and I could do to prepare them at this point. We all retreated to our respective places of safety. Hank went to his lab, Raven went to her room, and Charles and I went to the library.

* * *

><p>That night, as pretty much every other, started with a game of chess and drinks. It was so easy to follow the same routine, especially when faced with the possibility of dying tomorrow. Things seemed to be going well, but then Charles decided to start talking about what would happen with Shaw. Even though I had said it many times before he still refused to believe that I was going to kill Shaw when we met. I don't know if he thought that he would sway me with his kind words and companionship, or if he was going to take control of my mind and body and stop me telepathically. I wanted to believe that he would let me make my own decisions, but I had seen him take control of humans and manipulate them without a second thought. I didn't delude myself that I was anything different. For all that I trusted him I still didn't want him in my head.<p>

All of his reasons not to kill Shaw paled in comparison with my memories. If I didn't make a conscious effort to stop it the memory would replay over and over, burrowing deeper and deeper into my brain. Shaw as Schmidt counting to three, the strain of trying to move the coin, and the sound of the gun going off. The torture afterward hadn't compared after that first encounter. Eventually I learned how to control my reactions enough to where he didn't have to hurt me to get his desired result. I could shut off the part of me that hurt and was scared. Instead I replaced it with rage and anger. It soon colored every memory I had of him. I couldn't control my reactions when I saw him, some part of me didn't even want to.

Charles said that killing him wouldn't bring me peace. That only told me that he still didn't understand even after his constant rooting around in my mind. Shaw was only a piece of the larger problem. Once the humans knew that we existed there was no way that things could go back to the way they had before. Charles seemed to think that they would fawn over us if we stopped the missiles from reaching Cuba. Maybe there would be a parade and medals for all of us. I knew that there was little likelihood of anything like that happening. The best we could hope for was a jail cell on some isolated piece of rock far away from everyone. And once they found out that he could find other mutants his life would be spent as a bloodhound of sorts hunting out his own kind. A part of me wanted to just give in and say that he was right, but every experience I had ever had of being different showed me just how wrong he was. I didn't intend to repeat that.

We exchanged heated words and declarations about what we were going to do. I couldn't stand looking at him anymore, his face was blank and unreadable. For a moment I was reminded of my mother as she scolded me for fighting with some of the neighborhood children. What would she want me to do? I stormed over to the windows. It had grown dark outside and the woods near the mansion had obscured most of the stars. Everything was black except for brief flashes of light as tree limbs moved in the wind. Then it struck me that this might be the last time that I saw any of it. Did I really want to spend it fighting with him? I closed my eyes and tried to breathe in and out, in and out, until the rage subsided.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I said finally, turning to face him. He was still looking at me, but his features had softened. I wondered if he had felt my emotions and decided to pretend nothing had happened.

"It's okay, I don't really want to talk about it either." He managed a weak smile. "Just remember that you have to live with whatever you choose." I nodded. There wasn't really anything left to say.

I slid back into my chair and we picked up the game where we had left off. For a time there was no sound except the click of wood on wood as the pieces marched across the chessboard. Then the clock on the mantelpiece struck midnight. Each strike of the chime echoed in the room, counting down the hours until we had to leave. Charles set down the piece he was about to move and met my eyes. They seemed to be intensely blue in the fire light. It seemed like he wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come. For a moment I thought I felt something in the back of my mind but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"Charles?" I asked. His eyes met mine and I caught a brief glimpse of the blissful quiet I had experienced before. My skin trembled as his hand slid over mine on the chess board. He stroked it gently. The hairs on my arm stood up, my eyes slowly closed. I almost moaned as his hand left mine. When I opened my eyes again, he was kneeling on the floor in front of me and looking up at me expectantly. "I. . . I didn't think that you really felt that way about me." I couldn't remember the last time anyone had acted this way regarding me. Maybe it had been the waitress at a street side cafe who wanted to know why I showed up every morning at the same time to watch people going in to work. She hadn't lasted long. There had never been anything serious, only brief dalliances, small sparks of light in the gloom. Sure he and I had messed around, but I suppose I never stayed around long enough to see if he actually meant it.

He laughed, putting his hands on my thighs and pushing himself up to eye level. "Why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't anyone? We could die tomorrow, this kind of thing sort of seemed natural. A last . . . ," his lips ghosted over mine, "hurrah." Our lips met and I let myself lose control. He was right, why shouldn't I do this? All of our hard work was either going to pay off tomorrow or we were all going to die. I was sure I wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight anyway, why not spend it with someone that I considered a friend. Maybe it could turn into something more.

My hands moved up his back and pulled him down between my legs. His tongue slipped between my lips and met mine. We sat like that for a while, tongues sliding over each other, hands roaming everywhere they could reach. My senses became heightened. I could feel every piece of metal in the room. I was always aware of the metal around me, but almost never to this extent. Unless I was with him.

He stopped kissing my lips and went for my neck. There was a huge clatter as all of the metal in the room shifted. I moaned. Charles was nibbling at my pulse which was beginning to flutter uncontrollably. I tried to slip my hands underneath his shirt and only got a little way before he made me stop.

"Not here, "he whispered hoarsely in between desperate kisses. "My room." He opened his eyes briefly and glanced at the clock. "In half an hour." And then he was gone.

I had to sit in the chair for a few moments longer, breathing slowly and deeply in a vain attempt to calm down enough to take him up on that offer. I couldn't stay here, I was liable to go crazy waiting to go to him. I decided to go back to my room.

* * *

><p>Raven was naked and in my bed when I returned to my room. I tried to not act like it was surprising. She appeared to be desperate for any kind of positive attention she could get. It looked like she had been crying recently but had tried to clean up the best she could. I wondered what had happened with Hank. Anytime I saw them together it seemed like they were on the verge of admitting they had feelings for each other.<p>

I cast a cursory glance at the bed and then walked to the window. Perhaps if she hadn't looked like she was a teenager I might have taken a second glance. I knew she was much older than she appeared, if what Charles had said was true. She seemed to be stuck in some sort of perpetual adolescence.

"Raven, I'm going to bed. I'd really appreciate it if you left." I tried to be firm so she wouldn't try to argue. I turned to look at her. In her human disguise she was mildly attractive but at the moment Charles was the one on my mind. She was trying to look as sexy as possible, but it looked awkward and out of place. "Shouldn't you be with Hank?"

She glared at me, her eyes turning yellow and flecked with gold. "He didn't appreciate me the way that I thought he did."

I laughed softly. "And you think I would? Maybe in a few years, if I knew you a lot better."

She shifted, her features moving and changing. Her form was older, more mature. "I can be older," she whispered, her voice husky. She trailed her hand down her side. I stopped watching as it slipped down her thigh. "Or would you rather I was him?" And then she was Charles staring at me with bald lust. She looked exactly like him, right down to the freckles on his nose. The eyes she had kept yellow though, instead of his piercing blue. She smirked. "I knew it." I didn't think I'd betrayed myself, but she must have been looking for any kind of sign she could get.

"You knew what?"

"You two thought you were being so careful, but I've known Charles almost forever. He's been so happy since he met you. He hasn't acted like that before except the day after picking up a cocktail waitress." It was disconcerting to hear her say that with his voice. She let the sheet fall a little. I tried to keep myself from looking.

"That doesn't mean we. . ."

"I saw you that night heading back to your room. Maybe you were wrestling and that's why your clothes were all messed up." She rolled her eyes. "We both know that's not true."

"I'd like it if you'd leave. I don't want to hear about what you think you saw." I tried to keep the anger out of my voice. If I was calm she would leave and then I could go and meet Charles. Her robe was folded up on the windowsill. I grabbed it and held it out to her. She didn't take it. Instead she picked up a corner of the sheet and started pulling out the seam. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm happy for him. He never seemed like he'd ever find someone that he'd trust as much as me, that he'd love as much." She wiped at her eyes. "I thought I'd found that with Hank, that he loved me for what I am, faults and all, but he wants me to be normal, to look normal." She shook her head. "And I can't do that. I might want to, but this is me." She shifted to her true form, blue skin and scales slowly replacing white flesh. "You always said I was beautiful like this. I thought maybe you'd be interested in me. Instead you like Charles." This was accompanied by an accusatory glance.

I hadn't realized that I was raising her hopes like that. It certainly wasn't my intention. "That's not a reflection on you Raven." I slid onto the bed next to her. "Just because I'm not attracted to you doesn't mean no one else will be." For a moment I allowed myself to be angry with Hank for stringing her along and raising her hopes before cruelly dashing them. She didn't deserve that kind of kindness.

Before I realized I was doing it I leaned over and kissed her, putting my hand on her cheek. Her skin felt different than Charles', it was somewhat rough, almost like sharkskin. She leaned in to the kiss, obviously hoping for more but I didn't oblige. I didn't want to get her hopes up. After a brief pat on her shoulder I pulled away.

I handed her her robe and she left my room in her natural form. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. There had probably been a better way to handle that situation but at least she wasn't angry with me. The last thing we needed was to be fighting amongst ourselves when we found Shaw. I had no doubt that he'd pick that out and tear us apart.

I went in the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I had waited long enough, now it was time to go to Charles and see whether or not he actually wanted to do anything with me.

* * *

><p>I knocked on his door softly, hoping that only he would hear it. I wasn't sure where everyone else's rooms were and I definitely didn't want them to see both of us together like this. Having Raven know about us was enough. Charles opened the door and met my questioning glance with a smile. "I'm so glad you decided to come. I wasn't sure that you would." In fact I still wasn't sure but I closed the door behind me anyway.<p>

His room was a decent size but small for a mansion's bedroom. It was almost a child's room. It had probably been his room when he was younger and he hadn't had the heart to move. Posters and drawings of human anatomy and the planets were glued on the walls, along with drawings of natural phenomena. A few photographs sat on the night stand next to his bed. There was one of Einstein, then there were a few photographs of him and Raven, none of his parents. The remaining space was full of bookshelves; all filled to the brim with scientific works and literature. The fireplace was empty and didn't look like it had been used in quite some time. His bed at least was a generous size, though it appeared giant in the room. I wondered why he hadn't moved to one of the larger suites.

I stood awkwardly by the door. It wasn't too late to make my excuses and leave, but that would have been cruel. And I knew that I wanted this. He offered me a drink and sat down awkwardly at the foot of his bed. "This . . . I wasn't sure what would happen if you came." He gave me a rueful smile. "I wasn't sure if you'd be up for it."

I moved closer. "You didn't read my mind?"

Charles shook his head. "Contrary to what you think, I try not to unless I have to. I would go crazy very quickly if I didn't." He looked everywhere except at me. I had to stop that.

I leaned over and took his glass and put it on an empty space on the night stand. Shock passed over his face but he soon gained control of himself. He grabbed my arms and pulled me down on top of him. Our mouths collided and I felt an almost electric current flow through my body and pool at my groin. I moaned into his mouth. His hands pushed under my belt and met my flesh. His fingertips ghosted over my cock. Instantly I was hard, instantly I wanted him. "Charles," I heard myself say as if I wasn't in control over my own body. The thought occurred that maybe he was using his powers to control me, to make me want to do this, but from what I had learned from my friendship with him I knew he wouldn't have. Not here. He still had some common sense of decency.

"Erik," he whispered. Hastily he pulled my belt loose and started trying to pull down my pants. I nibbled at his neck, my hands slipping into the divide between his shirt and his skin. He gasped. I could barely breathe, the feel of his touch was too much. It was as if I was underwater again and the desire I felt for him was stopping my lungs from functioning.

I broke off from kissing him and tore off my shirt. He took advantage of the pause to take his own shirt off. When he began to take his pants and underwear off my hands covered his and I kissed down his abdomen as he peeled off his clothes. His cock was hard and dripping with precum. As I licked the tip he moaned, his voice going much deeper than I thought possible. Everything dissolved into a flurry of action as I took off the rest of my clothes. I stood in front of the bed as hard and ready as he was.

We were both naked and suddenly it became a bit awkward. Charles' skin was pale and freckled in spots that had caught the sun. His musculature was there, but not very defined. He looked to be the not terribly physically active professor that he had become. I felt his gaze on me as well. For once someone wasn't looking at the numbers tattooed on my arm, they were looking at me and he didn't look afraid or intimidated. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt me. I hadn't felt that safety in so long. He stepped closer and touched my arm. I shivered as his fingertips ghosted up towards my shoulder and then he pulled me towards his body. Our cocks collided and I hissed. I felt his lips at my throat. All I could do was grab hold of him and lose myself in the feel of his skin on mine, the texture of his throat against my lips. It seemed like we had just begun to kiss each other when he pulled away and laid down on the bed.

I climbed back onto the bed and he moaned until I was on top of him. Our flesh met again and I almost came right then. Charles was twisting in his own private agony of pleasure. His eyes opened and caught mine. He smiled slightly.

Suddenly I could feel what he felt. I could hear his thoughts. It was all I could do to keep touching him, my mind was so confused. I grunted as he traded positions with me and sat between my legs. He grabbed my cock hard enough to make me gasp and then trailed his fingers lower. My eyes rolled back into my head as he inserted one finger. It hit some place inside of me that I'd never felt before. He reached for something on the night stand. I didn't know what until I felt another finger enter, a finger coated with some kind of lubricant. And each movement of his fingers was another step toward complete bliss. I could feel the metal in his picture frames and his watch shaking on the night stand as he worked up to three, then four fingers. My hands-I had no control over them as they clenched and unclenched in the sheets.

Finally he removed his fingers and made ready to replace them with his cock. He knelt down and whispered into my ear, "You should try to relax." I tried to obey, tried to let down the barriers that I had built up over the years. Kisses trailed down my chest, his tongue circled my nipples, then he thrust into me. My mind and his were connected again, I could feel him entering me and I could feel what he felt. The sensation was overwhelming. I groaned, thrashing side to side. Charles was moaning, I think he was lost in it too. Our foreheads touched, our mouths tangled together. We stayed like that for a moment on the precipice of ecstasy. Then he moved. The pleasure did too. Each stroke was faster than the last as he settled into a comfortable rhythm. I couldn't control my power anymore and the metal spun throughout the room.

I could feel everything he felt and he could feel everything I could. He placed his hand on my cock and started to stroke it. The feeling, I thought I would go insane.

"Erik," he moaned into my mouth. I was beyond the ability for speech. The pleasure built and built until it spilled over and I came screaming in his hand. He came at almost the same time, his warmth spreading inside me. We stayed connected a few moments longer and then he finally pulled out and away. The connection between us severed and I was alone in my head again. He slumped down next to me. It took a while for me to catch my breath. "Is it always like that?" I asked in between panting.

He laughed. "No . . . no, usually I keep it all to myself" There was a brief pause and he turned away for a moment. "I guess it just seemed like I could share that with you. You've shared so much with me."

We laid there for a while trying to calm down. When I looked up at the ceiling I noticed that he had taped paper cutouts of the constellations across the room. I finally rolled over and started to get out of the bed. He touched my arm. "Are you going to run away again?"

"If I stay someone will find out. Raven already knows," I said. It didn't matter to me personally if everyone else knew, but Charles deserved his input on whether or not he wanted our relationship to be known as more than a friendship.

"When did you talk to Raven?"

"I went back to my room tonight. She was in my bed."

He coughed. "Raven was what?"

"Hank had upset her and she tried to seduce me." I sighed. "I rebuffed her, but I don't know if she was satisfied with that." Her face beamed out at me from Charles' pictures. I felt almost guilty. With a flick of my hand I gently turned the pictures face down.

"She tried to do the same with me in the kitchen, though apparently not as seriously." He rubbed at his eyes with his hands. "I'm not sure that this is the right place for her anymore. She's not happy here. I don't know where she could go though." He put his hand on my leg. "We don't have to talk about this now. Please, just stay for a couple of hours. I'll set the alarm clock."

The idea was appealing. If we were all going to die tomorrow it would be somewhat fitting to spend my last night with him. He had saved me from my last near death experience after all. I waited a moment and then nodded. We lost ourselves in each other.


	4. Chapter 4

**-4-**

Charles had fallen asleep not long after he had asked me to stay. I envied him his ability to put all of the stress and anticipation for tomorrow aside. There would be little to no rest for me. There never was the night before any big operation. I generally used the time to figure out what exactly I was going to do and how I was going to do it. This time there were too many variables to try to anticipate. And so I found myself sitting in the bed watching the shadows flicker on the walls. They danced down the sides of his bookshelves and caressed the rug in front of his empty fireplace.

We had started the night off with our arms around each other. When we were both awake I allowed myself to enjoy it. I wanted to remember what this felt like, what he felt like, so that I could remember it if things went badly. For some reason it seemed important to remember the location of moles on his back, the sound of his heartbeat, and the softness of his skin. I waited until he fell asleep to gently extricate myself from him. I kissed him on the forehead before gently sliding his arms out from around me. He immediately turned over and started snoring softly. I had promised to stay until the alarm went off but something seemed to be almost stifling about that. The clock stood on his night stand as a cruel reminder that this would have to end eventually.

I didn't want to have to worry about him tomorrow. I wanted to be able to kill Shaw and then disappear back into the ether. My life would be my own again. For so long it had been consumed in acquiring skills and information that would lead me to Shaw, now there would be no purpose. That was both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

Charles stirred in his sleep. I took a glance at the alarm clock. There were still two hours left until I absolutely had to leave. The seconds ticked away, time trailing off into oblivion.

The thought came that perhaps I could stay here with Charles and help him teach or something. Maybe even just keep the grounds clean. If Shaw was gone, Charles would be the only constant in my life. Somehow my life had grown to require a steady goal, some kind of focus. It seemed like he could provide the direction I needed.

It was odd, he and Shaw were almost diametrically opposed. I considered how they had both changed me. Shaw had destroyed the little boy that I had been, beating him down until only a cold, cruel shell remained. Charles had tried to help me recapture that feeling, the person that I was before. And he had tried to be more to me, a friend. Lately it had become something more and I wasn't sure where I wanted our relationship to go. I wanted time to be able to figure that out. It didn't look like we would be given that opportunity.

Still the seconds ticked away and the shadows on the wall shifted and moved over Charles' possessions. I closed my eyes and slid down on the bed. Images and flashes of what we had done tonight flickered through my consciousness. The brief glimpses I had of his mind had been awe-inspiring. I didn't know how he dealt with the constant flurry of thought from everyone around him. It had been too much for me just to hear his and mine. As I remembered what had happened all the stress and other concerns began to fade away. I fell asleep.

* * *

><p>It seemed like I had just drifted off when the alarm clock started to ring. I turned it off as quickly as I could. Underneath the covers it was nice and warm. When I pulled myself away from Charles it seemed like all of the warmth went out of my body. I dressed quickly, not looking at the bed. I didn't want to succumb to the temptation to stay the entire night with him. Not yet.<p>

The mansion was quiet at this hour, though a grandfather clock in one of the abandoned rooms rang out the hour a few moments after I had gently closed the door to his room. The mansion was a maze of rooms devoted to excess. Had I not memorized certain key landmarks that I had passed on the way here I would not have been able to find my way back. The statues, paintings, and furniture all blended together. The last landmark, an imposing portrait of what I presumed was one of Charles' relatives, glared down the hallway from his seat of power. His furious stare remained with me as I went into my room.

All of my luggage was still there, unpacked and strewn about. I took a moment to pack things and sort through my file on Shaw. There would be no time to do it later. Everything fit in one briefcase and a battered old suitcase. I considered destroying them in case things went wrong and decided against it.

As I was putting them away something fell on the floor and rolled underneath the night stand. I swore and bent down to reach for it. It took a few moments but I was finally able to grab it. It turned out to be the coin. How I wished that it had disappeared on its own. It went into my pocket.

I made up the bed and finally sat down on top of it facing the windows. I watched the sun light up the sky, seemingly setting the tree tops ablaze in yellow and red, slowly taking over the darkness. My hand had warmed the coin and it felt like it was burning into my flesh. I realized that no matter how much Charles had awoken in me I was still under Shaw's thrall and would have no peace until he was gone.

I waited until the sun itself shone over the treetops before joining the others.

* * *

><p>Most of the day had gone by in a blur of adrenaline and effort. It was taking a while for my mind to catch up with what had happened. I had pulled Shaw's submarine out of the water and I had done it without Charles messing with my head. It was almost like I had reached a breakthrough, I had found the pivot point in my emotions that all my powers revolved around. Now it was just a matter of remembering what it was for the next time.<p>

That accomplishment was nothing compared to what I had done next. I had killed Shaw. I had killed him with the coin he had used against me. I had destroyed the man who had ruined my life. I could still see his shocked gaze as the coin passed through his skull and came out the other side. For once he had been the one with no power. It felt as if a great weight had lifted. My mother's death had been avenged. And yet there was still the nagging feeling that he was right, that he wasn't the true enemy. His crimes were minor compared to the ones that humanity would commit once they found out we existed. I still didn't know where I stood in all of this. I knew he was right but I couldn't admit it.

My forehead still hurt and when I touched it my hands came away bloody. Sweat dripped down into my eyes and I wiped it away ineffectually. The helmet was stifling. It had been cooler inside the submarine but now on the beach the heat had risen. I picked up Shaw's body and moved it slowly in front of me. Now that his life had gone he seemed more pathetic. His head bobbed up and down as I pushed him out of the hole in the side of the submarine.

I wasn't ready for the look of disappointment Charles had when I returned to the beach. Part of it probably was that I had thrown Shaw's body to the ground before I floated down from the submarine. I hadn't intended to at first but then I realized that I would have to intimidate Shaw's allies in order to convince them to stop fighting us. They looked up at me with an almost begrudging respect.

I could sense the magnetic fields around us and it was easy to propel myself down them without too much effort. Everyone else was scared and intimidated but Charles looked like he was angry. His was the only opinion that really mattered to me. I wanted to explain it to him but I could feel the ships moving and regrouping in the water. Any discussion that we needed to have together would have to wait.

I floated to the ground. Everyone gave me a wide berth. There wasn't time to debate my actions. We were all going to die unless they trusted me. Charles reluctantly read the minds of the captains of the ships and confirmed what I already knew, they were going to attack us. I wanted there to be more time to make decisions but I could feel the cannons slowly turning to point at us. For once he would have to do things my way. It remained to be seen whether or not he would allow it. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the missiles as they approached the beach. I don't think I even heard the sound of them being launched. Instead I felt them, a hundred pieces of metal hurtling through the sky towards us. It took all I had to separate the feeling of them from the sense of the Blackbird, the sub, and the ships. As the missiles came closer and closer I reached out and then when all seemed lost I stopped them. If I thought of them all as little objects instead of an overwhelming barrage I could halt them before they reached us. That point in my mind that had given me so much power when I moved the satellite dish and the submarine was gone, replaced by anger that Charles still didn't believe me and that he didn't trust my word. It was not as strong as the emotion that I had felt with his help, but it worked almost as well.

I tried to channel that rage into my powers. The missiles shifted in midair. Everyone looked panicked. I willed myself to hold them still. My hand was shaking and I knew that at any moment I could drop all of them. The pain spread throughout my body and it felt like I was going to tear apart if I continued to hold them in the air.

It took a moment to regain focus especially without Charles helping me. My hand twisted, the missiles shuddered and then turned. I could hear Charles yelling at me to stop, hear him trying to reason with me. And I considered it, I truly did, until he brought up a familiar excuse that had colored my whole life. "They're just following orders." The phrase probably meant nothing to him, but I had heard it repeatedly as I tracked Shaw. I had heard it muttered through clenched teeth, screamed by frightened old men, and whispered over and over as the life left my victims' bodies. He should have remembered that especially as he claimed to know everything about me. The anger inside of me only grew. Now it was easier to justify blasting all of the ships into oblivion. If no one was willing to question their orders then they deserved whatever they received.

I inhaled deeply and then reached out and pushed the missiles away, hurtling them toward the battleships. It took all I had to keep them moving so when suddenly I was pushed down into the sand I lost control. I thought it was Hank or Alex who had attacked me, and when I looked up and it was Charles it took a supreme effort not to drop the missiles right then. As it was I lost about half of them. They exploded as they hit the water, their destruction rocking the boats in the sea. I gasped for air. It felt as if they had all been torn from my flesh. It took all I had to keep control of the remaining missiles.

We struggled on the ground. He kept on reaching for my helmet. I tried to pull away. I didn't want to hurt him but he was leaving me no choice. He barely relented when I pushed him off of me and he didn't stop until I had punched him in the face. I was caught up in the moment. The most I meant to do was push him away. Instead I had hurt him. I almost hated him for making me do it. Couldn't he see that I was trying to protect us? We were stronger together than apart. Still I had to keep the missiles in the air. I couldn't drop them now or we would all be lost.

I sent the missiles off again. They arched through the sky and made it about halfway before the large pieces of metal were joined by smaller ones. Moira was shooting at me. It was comically easy to deflect the bullets. I should have realized that nothing was ever that simple.

The bullet that ended it all wasn't any different than the rest. It should have hit me. I should have let it continue on. Instead I flung it to the side with all the others. It seemed like time sped up. Charles cried out in pain, clutching his back, and then fell to the ground. All of my attention went to him, the missiles didn't matter anymore. They fell into the water and exploded. I ran to him, what had I done?

I rolled him onto his side gently. Instead of the warm gush of blood that I expected there was only the crushed metal of the bullet. I froze. The bullet felt heavy in my hand though it was so small. It had lodged in the back of his suit down near his waist. A growing sense of horror slowly spread through my body.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." I said, trying not to let my voice betray any emotion. That worked until he looked at me. His eyes were full of pain and disappointment. It felt like my stomach was erupting in flames as I tried to keep control of myself. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice rasping in my throat. He didn't act like he was in pain otherwise, yet his hands were in fists. I wanted to grab one of them and tell him it was going to be okay. Everyone was looking at me like I'd stepped so far out of the realm of human decency that I could never come back. I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, I wanted to rip all of the battleships down to their base components. But most of all I wanted him to be safe and uninjured. "They wanted us to fight each other. Can't you see that we're stronger together? We have to protect ourselves. You and I, we need to lead mutants against humanity. Come with me." It was taking all I had not to fall apart in front of him.

He laughed joylessly and then winced. I held him tighter. "I don't think you understand me at all. That's not the world that I want. I can't go with you," he said quietly. His eyes were full of betrayal and accusation. I couldn't look into them for long without feeling like vomiting. The guilt that had lodged itself in my stomach twisted.

Moira stepped forward still holding the gun that had caused all of this. Anger burned in my body and I lashed out at her. "This is your fault," I hissed. How convenient that she was wearing dog-tags. That meant I didn't have to find something else to make her suffer. I used my powers to tighten the chain around her neck. Her hands clutched at her throat and she gasped for air. Maybe now she had a little taste of what she had wrought.

Charles stirred in my arms. "It's not her fault. It's yours." When he said that I knew it was true. I knew it was my fault. All of it. I looked down at him in shock. He looked past me as if I was invisible. There was no point in pretending that I could fix this. I let go of the dog-tags and beckoned her over. It only hit me later that I should have said something, done something to let him know that I was sorry but at the moment I just wanted to get away from his accusing eyes. I gently passed him over to Moira and tried to recover some dignity.

I don't even remember what I said to try and get the others to join me. My mind was on Charles. Moira was cradling him and glaring at me. Hank, Alex, and Sean looked battle-weary and angry. Shaw's henchmen appeared unsure and directionless. I must have appealed to their sense of community, their fear of being hunted and alone. I promised them acceptance. It was almost as if I was talking to myself, trying to convince myself that this was the right thing to do. Raven was looking at me as if I was appealing to everything she wanted to become. Maybe if she joined me others would follow. I held my hand out to her. I don't think I could have stood being left alone again.

She walked towards me but detoured to Charles. I tried not to let that affect me. They were brother and sister in everything but blood. Maybe she could say the goodbye that I couldn't. I watched them talk with each other before she pulled away and took my hand. Hers was sweaty and she shook a little as she looked at me. That soon passed and she was able to smile and put on a brave front for the rest. Shaw's henchmen came over soon after. I took a last look at Charles and then nodded to Azazel. We teleported.

* * *

><p>For a moment after we reappeared I couldn't see and all I could smell was sulfur and fire. Raven was coughing and trying to regain her balance. When my sight refocused I realized we were in a bunker or barracks of some kind. There was only a little light let in by the narrow windows set up high in the walls. It revealed dark shapes lurking in the gloom, probably some kind of furniture but I couldn't make sense of it yet. As the sulfur dissipated the only smell that remained was that of age and old paper. There was no real way to tell how far we had traveled.<p>

Azazel and the others were looking at me expectantly. I should have anticipated it. I had told them that I would lead them to a brighter future. This should have been where I took control and laid out our plans. But I had to take care of something first. My mind was still full of images of Charles struggling to keep himself together in Moira's arms. I couldn't leave him, he would have gone back for me. In fact he had risked his life for me when we first met.

Raven jumped when I touched her arm. "Keep them busy for a while." She looked like she was going to argue but something in my face must have made her realize that I was serious. I watched her take Riptide and Angel to the side and start to clean things up.

Azazel looked surprised when I turned to him. "Can you take me to the bridge of the closest American battleship to the island?" I asked.

"Of course, but why do you want to go back there?" His accent seemed Eastern European but I had only overheard him saying a few words and phrases in Russian, nothing that would narrow down exactly where he came from. There would be time for that later.

"I left something unfinished." I must have sounded convincing because he didn't ask any questions. He simply nodded and touched my arm.

I barely had time to breathe before we were what I assumed was miles away standing on the bridge of one of the ships behind the captain. It took a few moments for them to register that we were even there. And when they did we were soon surrounded by sailors pointing guns at us. Azazel looked somewhat nervous, not for himself but for me. I didn't have time for this. I raised my hand and plucked the weapons from their hands. The guns clattered to the deck as I pulled them apart.

The captain's mouth was stuck open. "You're the one from the island! What are you?"

"That doesn't matter," I snapped, stepping closer to him. He tried to pull away. It only took a second to hold him in place by his watch and wedding ring. "I need you to send a boat out to the island. I left my hostages there and one of them is injured." He opened his mouth more to protest. I made his jewelry constrict, he cried out in pain. "If you don't do this I will make sure that the missiles don't miss next time."

The captain nodded slowly before barking orders into the radio. Instantly sailors sprang into action on deck and they were putting a boat into the water. Satisfied that they were following my request, I gestured to Azazel and he teleported us to a higher point on the island.

I watched the little specks that were Charles and the rest. Everyone was huddled around him on the beach. Moira stayed with him until the boat reached the shore and what I presumed was the ship's doctor and a few crew members landed. She turned him over to them and they all filed back onto the boat.

Azazel said nothing as he stood next to me. I guessed that he had learned not to question from Shaw. His tail twitched back and forth in agitation. "Why did we come back?" he asked finally, his curiosity finally overriding his reserve.

"I had to make sure he was going to be taken care of." I didn't care if Azazel understood or not. I had done this to Charles, I had to attempt to make it right.

He looked up at the sky. "It's getting dark." The sky was quickly turning a shade between blue and purple. The sun had long since vanished over the horizon. I watched the boat head back to the battleship and wished that I could find out what was happening and how he was doing. That was too dangerous. Finally long after they had gone I asked Azazel to take me back.

* * *

><p>While we were gone someone had gone to the trouble of setting up lights all throughout the main room. In the better light I was able to make out that it was the main room of a bunker of sorts, furnished with the careful attention to detail that Shaw took with all of his property. The main room had a couch, a large oak table and chairs, and a vast array of electronic equipment in boxes that spilled out over the floor. This furniture looked old and dated, especially compared to how he had furnished his submarine. For a brief moment I remembered his office in the camps, had this furniture been from then? The walls were lined with bookshelves and file cabinets. There was a doorway that led to a longer hallway that promised more rooms.<p>

Raven was sitting on the couch looking dejected and alone. When we appeared she jumped up and came over to meet us. It looked like she had been crying. "Where did you go?" she asked. I wanted to lie to her, to treat her with callous indifference so I could set a tone for the days to come but I couldn't. Charles was hers as well.

"I made them go back for Charles." I said. "They took him back on one of the ships."

She glared at Azazel. "Why didn't you teleport him to a hospital?"

He glanced at me before answering. "Things tend to go. . .wrong when moving injured people." In truth I had thought of asking him but had decided against it. There were too many variables involved. Still I couldn't let him take the blame in her eyes.

"I thought it might have made things worse. The bullet hit his back . . ." I wanted to continue but my throat seized up. She touched my shoulder gently. I backed away, Azazel couldn't see that I had a weakness. I swallowed desperately hoping that I could hide what I was feeling for just a little bit longer. "Where is everyone?"

She rolled her eyes. "I told them that you'd talk to them tomorrow. They went to their rooms."

"Thank you." And I meant it. There was no way that I could deal with trying to inspire someone now when all I had was lost.

She pointed down the hallway. "The last one on the left is free. They're a lot smaller than the rooms at the mansion." I dismissed them both and then went to find my room. The specter of tomorrow loomed in my mind but that could be dealt with later.

* * *

><p>My room was little more than a narrow portion of hallway that looked like it had been sectioned off. There was a basic metal bed with sheets and an army issue blanket. A metal night stand with two empty drawers made up the rest of the furniture. A barred window was set high up in the wall. The walls were painted white, the furniture a dark shade of green. I scrambled up on top of the bed to see if I could see anything out of the window. It was completely dark outside leaving no clue to where we were. Right now I should have been flying back to the mansion with everyone, Shaw would still be dead, war would have been averted, and Charles would be healthy. Instead I was here alone again. And that was all my fault.<p>

I cursed as I took the helmet off. There was no need to wear it here, there were no telepaths around at the moment. My forehead started to hurt again. When I touched it my hand came away wet with blood. I sat down on the bed and held my hand against it to stop the bleeding. The sting of sweat against the wound made me think of Charles. Not knowing what I had caused was killing me inside. The guilt was running through my body trying to tear me apart. All I could see when I closed my eyes was him lying in pain on the beach. When he had said that killing Shaw wouldn't bring me peace why hadn't he said that the rage would be replaced with guilt? It felt like there was something growing inside of me that I had to let free, I was trapped here with people that I didn't know or trust and there was no way out.

I punched the wall, hoping to replace the pain in my stomach with physical pain somewhere else. It seemed like it worked. The walls were thick enough that anything I did couldn't be heard by anyone outside. I did it again. My knuckles started to turn red. This wasn't healthy but I felt like if I didn't do something soon I was going to go crazy. The guilt would overwhelm me. And I had to be strong tomorrow. So I continued to slam my fists against the wall until the skin finally broke and I couldn't feel the impact anymore. I wanted to lose myself in the pain but the memory of Charles saying it was all my fault, that he didn't want to go with me, of the bullet in my hand, that overtook it all. I sank to the floor.

I cried. I cried for him, for Shaw, for my parents, for all of the people that I had hurt. I didn't hold back because I knew this had to be the last time. After this I had to be strong and almost emotionless so I could be a leader to this ragtag bunch of mutants. I couldn't be the Erik that had loved Charles anymore. The rage had to become a barrier to keep everyone away. I never wanted to hurt like this again.


	5. Chapter 5

**-5-**

Raven found me in the morning. I must not have locked the door. Somewhere along the line she had discarded her uniform and decided to stay in her natural form. "What did you do to your hands?" she asked, holding them in her own. Mine were covered in crusted blood and bruises. They throbbed as she held them up to the light. I hadn't seen my face since a day or so ago, I'm sure it must have been obvious that I had been crying. "You have to clean up before they see you," she said, fear in her voice.

Somehow we managed to get into the bathroom without seeing anyone else. She pushed me in and shut the door behind me. It was a somewhat small bathroom with a toilet, sink, and bathtub. There was a drain in the center of the stained tile floor. It all smelled of cleaning fluid.

A corpse stared back at me from the mirror. My face was a shade of grey and dark circles punctuated my bloodshot eyes. Blood still dripped from the cuts on my forehead. I splashed cold water on my face and hoped that that was enough.

I filled the sink with water that was possibly hotter than I could stand. The mirror was thankfully soon covered with steam. I eased my hands down into the water. It burned at first and stung. Yet I kept them underneath the water. I braced my head against the mirror, I thought I was going to pass out. The heat burned all of the pain away for the moment. When I took my hands out of the water they almost looked like they belonged to someone else. They were pink and inflamed. As I watched the blood started to flow again I cursed.

Someone knocked on the door and then burst in. Raven. She was holding a first aid kit. She made me sit down on the toilet so she could look at my hands. I closed my eyes and tried to stop thinking about the pain as she slowly wrapped them in gauze. Once she was done she pulled out some black leather gloves she had gotten somewhere.

"You should probably wear these," she said, handing them over. I slid them on over the bandages with some difficulty. They were tight and painful. And yet they had to do. I allowed myself to wallow in the pain for a moment before pushing it all aside to deal with what had to be done next.

"Where are they?"

"Angel hasn't gotten up yet, but Azazel and Riptide are in the main room." She started to leave. I touched her arm and she looked at me questioningly.

"Raven, I appreciate your coming with me and helping me, but you know some things have to change."

"Like what?"

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, trying to let the pain flow over me. "We can't be Raven and Erik anymore. We have to be Mystique and Magneto. We left who we were before on the beach."

She looked troubled and taken aback. "Are you sure?"

I sighed. "If this is going to work we have to leave everything of our old identities behind." I could tell she didn't believe me and that was fine. I was mostly talking to myself.

* * *

><p>Azazel and Riptide were both sitting at the table talking with each other when we came into the room. They stopped as I went to the head of the table and looked up at me expectantly. I grabbed onto the chair and instantly regretted it. Pain shot up from my hands and burned through my arms. I winced and hoped that they didn't notice it. "Before we do anything, where exactly are we?" I asked, looking at Azazel.<p>

"Come, I'll show you." He took us down the hallway to the entrance of the bunker. As he opened the door to the outside the stale air seemed to rush out. It was somewhat cooler outside and it smelled like the forest. Gnarled and ancient trees grew out of the forest floor and twisted towards the sky. The mountain tops in the distance were topped with snow. Everything seemed pristine and natural. When I turned to look back at the entrance to the bunker it had almost disappeared into the trees. There was no road up to the bunker and no trace of any other humans around. I didn't know if I wanted to know how Shaw had done it. Mystique walked around in wonder. "It's so beautiful up here," she exclaimed.

Azazel smiled at her indulgently. "Yes, it is."

"What mountain range is this?" I asked, walking around the perimeter of the bunker. If you didn't know what to look for it was almost impossible to spot in the side of the mountain.

He exchanged a glance with Riptide. "This is one of Shaw's safe houses. It's in the Andes."

"How many safe houses does he have?"

"I'm not really sure. Emma would have a better idea of what properties he had."

"And what's in the file cabinets?"

"I know he had a lot of plans that he was working on. I think they're all in there somewhere."

I tapped my fingers on a tree. "I suppose Emma handled that too."

He looked somewhat surprised. "Well, yes. Shaw didn't really trust us with much of his plans." I gestured for everyone to go back inside. Though I would have liked to stay outside longer, there would be time enough to explore later.

Once we were back in the main room I sat back down at the table. "I suppose we'll have to rescue Emma then. Do you know where she's being held?"

Riptide got up and went to a stack of papers on top of one of the file cabinets. He set them down in front of me. I flipped through them quickly. They were maps and architectural drawings of the CIA building. There was apparently a lower level where prisoners were stored for transport. "We were going to go there after we had finished in Cuba," he said quietly. "Obviously we didn't get the chance."

"Alright." I glanced over the plans quickly, they were little to be worried about. "Mystique, go wake Angel up. We'll be leaving."

She nodded but hesitated before going into the hallway. "Are you going to wear that?" I looked down. I still had on the uniform Hank had made for me. It was covered in the dust and grime of the day - had it truly only been a day? - before. Everyone else seemed to see the problem before I did. "You can't wear that, they might think we're working with Charles."

Riptide nodded. "Shaw had something made for . . . after." He beckoned me over to one of the anterooms. There was a small closet inset into the wall. He opened the door almost reverently and then stepped back.

Shaw, in his infinite narcissism, had placed his costume into a mirrored closet. There was another helmet, this one gleaming red and purple, with an odd crest on the forehead. The rest of the costume consisted of a red jacket with a mandarin collar, black pants, and a black cape. This was what I had to wear? In a way this was what I needed in order to reinvent myself.

The suit didn't fit very well and it took a moment to get used to the feel of the cape trailing behind me. I thought of Mystique's suggestion for my codename. Erik might not wear this, but Magneto would. The helmet was the last piece of the transformation. As I placed it on my head my senses seemed to dim. The helmet obstructed my vision and I couldn't hear as well. That somehow made it easier to concentrate on the metal that surrounded us. This wasn't perfect but it would do.

I glanced over the plans again before turning to Azazel. "You're sure that you can teleport us close enough to her cell?" I asked, pointing to an area of the map that was close but not too close to where they were holding her.

He smirked. "Of course I can."

"Then do it."

* * *

><p>There was only one guard on her cell and he was quickly dispatched quietly and bloodlessly. The door to her cell was thick and solid metal. It only lasted a few seconds before I was able to wrench it free and throw it to the side.<p>

Emma put on a brave face as I entered the room. Her diamond form probably helped, though I could still see traces of the cracks around her neck that I had left. She eyed me suspiciously and braced herself against the table behind her. I almost pitied her.

"Are you here to kill me?" she demanded.

I shook my head. "Then this would be a wasted effort, wouldn't it? They tell me that you're the only one who knows all Shaw's secrets."

That made her feel more powerful and sure of herself. I could almost see the schemes forming in her mind as she looked at us. "Why do you need me? Where's your telepath friend?" She peered at the doorway behind me as if looking for him. All she saw was Mystique, Riptide, Angel, and Azazel. Confusion passed over her face and she raised an eyebrow.

Her question hit right in the spot that was still missing him. I hesitated for a brief moment and hoped that she didn't notice. "He's gone. It's left a bit of a gap." I leveled my gaze at her. "You were indispensable to Shaw. I was wondering if you could do the same for me."

She pondered this for a moment before deciding. "I'd be willing to help you. You said your name was Erik, I believe?"

I flinched at the name. It was a reminder of something I had decided was long past. "I prefer Magneto."

She shrugged and stepped over to join us. It only took a moment before we were back at the bunker.

"You took them here?" she asked Azazel, walking around the room. "I guess it makes sense, it was closest."

"How many of these does he have?" I asked. Emma laughed. Here, in the seat of her former power, she had rediscovered the strength that she had lost in the cell. She was no longer the frightened woman waiting for Shaw to return. This had to stop. I knew better than to trust her. She had most likely seen as much of my memories as Charles had.

"You mean how many of these do I have," she said, smiling. She sat down at the head of the table and put her feet up. "All of his properties and his bank accounts are in my name." Her cold calculating eyes swept over me once more. "I don't mind working for you as long as the goal is still the same. We are the dominant species and we deserve recognition of our status."

I nodded, slowly working some of the electrical cords that had been dumped on the floor around her arms on the armrests. Once she noticed she started to struggle. I tightened them. "The only thing you need to remember is that I'm in charge," I said quietly. Her eyes were full of fear. I slowly worked a cord up to her neck. She flinched as it encircled her throat.

"You're in charge," she hissed as it started to constrict. I gently let her free. The look of resentment that she gave me almost made me regret it.

* * *

><p>That night I returned to my room and removed the gloves. The pain that had been lurking under the surface all day sprang to the forefront. My hands started to throb as blood rushed to my fingers. Blood coated the gauze and it was damp with sweat. When I removed it my knuckles were scabbed over and swollen. I cursed my stupidity. Raven . . . Mystique had left the roll of gauze on the night stand and I replaced it gently, covering my hands up with white. Then I turned to the two files that I had brought into my room: Emma's and my own.<p>

Shaw had apparently gotten Emma to agree to a limited testing of her powers. Her telepathic range was somewhat short compared to Charles' and it could not penetrate thick walls. My hands shook as I removed the helmet and placed it on the night stand. I tried to pay attention to see if I felt her trying to take control of me. There was nothing. That made it easier to relax. While I wasn't completely safe from her powers here at least I knew what her limits were.

I put her file aside and opened up my own. Some of the pages had faded and were beginning to crumble. I read through a few of Shaw's entries and saw how he had remade me in his image. Every torture was meticulously detailed along with a short description of what I had been able to do afterwards. I was only able to read a few entries before I put the file away in the night stand. No one else needed to find it and discover what had happened to me.

I fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>I know they didn't trust me. I didn't trust them either. We had been thrust together spontaneously without really getting to know each other first. For the most part they didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. That kind of loyalty was dangerous, because I knew that if anyone else was able to offer them something better they would consider it. With Charles and his team I had been able to let down my barriers somewhat. It hadn't felt like any of them would exploit my weaknesses. Here there was no telling what any of Shaw's former allies would do to gain power.<p>

I think Azazel was the first to warm to me and that was because I had trusted him to take me back to the beach. He probably had the least incentive to leave out of anyone. His appearance would mark him wherever he went, even more so than Mystique's. Riptide was extremely quiet and kept mostly to himself. I didn't know if that was because he was angry at me for killing Shaw or if he was just shy. Angel had been promised the moon by Shaw and her willingness to betray Charles would make it always a question as to whether or not she would remain loyal. I suspected she would-the world we were planning was more appealing than taking the less confrontational option.

Of them all Emma was perhaps the biggest threat. She knew all of Shaw's secrets and her fortune rivaled his. Even if the others didn't go with her, she would always be able to find allies. Often when I left my room in the morning I would find her standing in the hallway waiting for me. I had taken to wearing the helmet a majority of the time to avoid any of her telepathic assaults.

Mystique was probably the closest thing I had to a friend and still I could not trust her completely. She had left Charles after he had been unable to provide the environment that she needed. I had a feeling that she wouldn't hesitate to leave if something more appealing came up.

They were all that I had to work with and so I decided to make the best of what I had. We spent mornings practicing-though Emma generally declined to take part. Azazel and Riptide had worked together for a long time and were comfortable with each other's powers. Adding Angel, Mystique, and myself made things a bit more difficult. Still it seemed that we were making progress.

Afternoons I either let them practice more or we all started to sort through Shaw's plans to see if there was anything that we could do to advance the cause of mutants. His plans ranged from kidnaping government officials to starting an all out nuclear war where nothing would survive. This bunker was one of many where he hoped to hide the 'best' mutants to create his new world. One day I had Azazel take me to some of the other ones. They were either up in the mountains or deep down in the earth, wherever Shaw thought there was the smallest chance of detection.

Every few days Azazel would teleport one of the others to the nearest large city to purchase supplies and get news from the outside world. There was nothing from Charles and no mention about the revelation of mutants to the world at large. All the newspapers talked about was the negotiations between the United States and Russia about removing the missile bases in Cuba. Even though we had saved the world there still was a mess to clean up. Our part would never be mentioned and indeed was glossed over as a mechanical accident on one of the battleships. I wondered what Charles thought about that. I never went on the trips to the city. I didn't think I could show myself until I had become more comfortable with the persona I had created for myself. Magneto had to actually do something before I could leave.

Evenings were free. I tended to keep to myself, though sometimes Mystique would try and join me. Even though she and Angel had bonded somewhat she came to me when she wanted to reminisce about Charles and the life she had left behind. I let her. It was a small attempt to keep her trust.

"Do you think he's okay?" she asked one night after the others had gone to their rooms. It seemed like every time I thought I had compartmentalized what had happened with Charles something or someone would remind me.

We were both sitting in the main room, or the war room as they had started to call it. I had been trying to figure out the best way to get into a missile silo. Maps and architectural drawings were spread all over the surface of the table. Joining them were books in a few different languages detailing proper storage and transport guidelines for the warhead. When she asked the question I was trying to read the fine print with a magnifying glass on one of the larger maps. Her question ruined my concentration. I dropped the magnifying glass on the table and rubbed at my eyes. I tried never to think of what had happened to him. In my mind he was still whole and healthy. "I went back to make sure they took care of him. He was fine then." Each word was like a knife twisting in my gut. The chances of him being fine were slim to none. She knew it as well as I did.

She put down the magazine that she had been flipping through and looked at me. Even though she very rarely wore clothing she said she needed to keep up on the latest fashions so that she could blend in when she left the bunker. "You always seem sad when you talk about him. You should talk to him. I'm sure he doesn't really blame you."

"I don't want to talk to him," I said. I hunched over the table and tried to pretend that I was still pouring over the architectural designs. In reality I felt like I was going to vomit. Seeing Charles again would be a chance for redemption. Yet my biggest fear was that he'd look at me with the same disappointed eyes he had on the beach. I wanted to see him again when I could prove that I had become better and stronger without him.

She sighed and walked over to my chair at the table. Her finger touched my chin and then gently prodded my head up to look at her. "I could be him for you if you want." She shifted into his form. I had to close my eyes. Even though I knew it wasn't him I still couldn't look at him. It hurt too much. And still I had almost said yes and given in. We could have had a proper last meeting, I could have explained everything. That didn't matter if it wasn't truly Charles.

I pulled away from her and put my head in my hands. "Stop it!" I could see her slowly change back through my fingers. Her blue skin overtook his and I could only watch in horror. It was like slowly reliving that day on the beach all over again. The guilt that I tried to keep under control slowly roused itself and twisted in my gut.

"Don't do that again," I snapped.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to help." She folded up her magazine and ran out of the room. I would have followed her and apologized had I not still been caught up in the vision of him. I closed my eyes and tried to calm down and hit that place we had found together once more. Without him I had never been able to find that point between anger and peace. I hated to think that my powers were dependant on him. When I opened my eyes Emma was standing in the doorway. Funnily she was wearing more clothing than she generally did. The white nightgown that she was wearing may have been low cut but it was made of a solid material and she almost looked matronly in it. She smirked as she watched me scramble for the helmet. I had thought she had gone to bed otherwise I would never have taken it off.

"If I wanted to attack you I would have done it by now." She stepped closer, slowly running her fingers over the pages on the table. "You two were being quite loud. It was hard to get any sleep." Her lips formed a pout.

"I'm sorry. Mystique was . . ."

"He survived you know." She said it as if she was remarking on the weather. "He's paralyzed but that was to be expected."

I tried not to betray how desperate for information I was. "How did you find this out?"

She threw a pamphlet on the table. Emblazoned on the front was a circle with an X in the middle. Beneath it was printed "The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters". I opened it to the first page and there was his picture. He didn't look like the man that I had known. The photograph had taken away his devil may care attitude and charisma. He was a younger version of the portrait that had glared at me in the hallway. The pamphlet was written to appeal to those with special gifts, offering them a place to study with other gifted individuals. What exactly gift meant was never defined. The photographs were glossy and crisp. I saw Hank, Alex, and Sean either teaching or acting the part of student with other teenagers I didn't know. There was a classroom photograph that caught my attention most of all. Charles sat at the professor's desk in a wheel chair. "Where did you get this?"

Emma had taken a seat at the other end of the table and was examining her nails. "I don't just go clothes shopping on my days off. I have a few contacts that run in his circle. They passed this along. I thought you'd be interested." She got to her feet slowly. "She's right, you do look sad when you talk about him," she said flatly and then left. I was surprised she'd actually made the effort. Usually our interactions were short and acrimonious. I almost suspected she had planned all this to see if she could upset me. On some level she had succeeded. I had finally reached a point where I didn't wake up every day nauseous thinking about what I had done to him. This was likely to send me back to the place I was a few weeks ago.

Now there was no chance of my getting any work done. I folded up the maps and found some scissors. The paper was easy to cut and it was only a moment before I had both of the pictures of him separated from the rest of the pamphlet. I used the magnifying glass to look at them more closely. The photograph from the front page showed a man who was confident in his abilities and had an inner strength that drew people to him. His eyes still had the same resolute gaze they had when I had seen them last, but the camera had softened that somewhat. I wondered if a picture of me would look as strong. The classroom photograph was a little different. He had let his guard down somewhat and looked as if he was forcing himself to go through the motions. Had he finally been unable to hide his weariness behind a cloak of false happiness? I took both of the pictures and walked outside into the forest.

Normally whenever I left the bunker I would wear the helmet. Tonight I left without it. I had no doubt that Hank would have rebuilt Cerebro the first opportunity he had. It felt odd to stand outside and feel the wind in my hair. The stars sparkled between the tree branches that stretched seemingly endlessly ahead. I walked to the clearing where we normally practiced and sat down on one of the rocks we used to mark the border. I put the pictures on the ground in front of me. He stared up at me from the leaves and dirt.

"I'm sorry." I whispered to him. Maybe this could give me the temporary absolution that I sought. I sat there for a while in the vain hope that he would touch my mind again and I would be able to feel the peace that was only made by the two of us together.

**End**


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